


Visiting Hours

by FruitfulMind



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Reader-Insert, i freaking love her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitfulMind/pseuds/FruitfulMind
Summary: After an incident involving alien technology, you awaken in Med Bay. There, you meet the infamous Dr. Grey; is she really as crazy as the Reds and Blues say? Well, that's up to you to decide.





	Visiting Hours

“Watch out (Y/N)!” Those were the last words you heard. Your head pounded as you tried to make sense of what’d just happened. The world was spinning as you swayed side from side, feeling light-headed. Everything hurt. The last thing you remembered was someone rushing towards you and shouting, then inky blackness.

 

You regained consciousness at random intervals, never staying too long before you fell back into darkness. Every once in a while you’d hear someone speaking, but never really catching what was said. When you did regain consciousness, you found yourself unable to fall back asleep, no matter how heavy your eyelids were. You tried to move your legs, but found them stiff and uncooperative. Everything from your waist and below was numb; no doubt something had hit you hard. Struggling to clear your parched throat, your hand flopped around. “Huh…” You struggled to speak, sounding more akin to a zombie. There was a loud noise, like nails on a chalkboard; someone was in here.

 

It didn’t take long for whomever to realize that you were trying to get their attention. “They’re awake!” The person loudly squawked. That voice… Memories came swarming back; the person who screamed your name before you blacked out. Focusing on their ramblings, you noticed their maroon clothing. Simmons. “We thought you were dead!“ He rambled away, and you tried to focus on his words, only catching bits and pieces.

 

You struggled to chuckle, desperately wanting him to know that you were okay. Damn your dry mouth! Man, you wish Simmons was good at charades. You lifted your hand slowly, not trying to overexert your body, and mimed for a drink.

 

However, your wishes were unanswered. “You want a handshake?” He asked confusedly.

 

“Maybe they want some chocolate.” Someone else asked. Grif was here too? What the hell happened?

 

“Why would (Y/N) want chocolate?!” Simmons asked, turning towards the orange shoulder. Grif shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

 

You tried to speak, giving a lick of your lips. “Wuh…” You struggled, trying to find the words. Both soldiers leaned forward, hanging on your next words. “Wuh’ta.” God,  it sounded so terrible. They looked at each other, Simmons finally catching on.

 

“Water!” He shouted.  “You want water!” You tried to nod. Simmons looked at Grif smugly, only then seeming to remember your request. “Oh y-yeah!” He stammered out, heading for the door. “I’ll get you some!” Grif watched him run away, relaxing farther into his seat.

 

“So… how are you feeling, anyway?” He asked, breaking the comfortable silence. You stared at him, still unable to speak. “Oh right, water,” Grif responded as nonchalantly as possible, though he seemed a little abashed. “Wanna watch some TV?” He asked, already reaching for the remote. There was no way in hell you wanted even more noise, given how you were feeling. Protecting the remote with lightning-fast reflexes, you glared at Grif. “Just one channel, (Y/N)!”

 

“Stop upsetting (Y/N), Grif!” Simmons said, entering the room with a large Styrofoam cup. You licked your lips, spotting the beauty. Water never seemed so delicious. “They need their rest!” As soon as the water was near your vicinity, you grabbed it greedily. The water was cool and refreshing on your throat, and you slurped it down.

 

“Jesus Christ.” Both soldiers said in unison.

 

It was amazing how much water one could pack away when thirsty, and you were no exception; finally, the aching in your throat ceased. Placing down the now empty water container, you looked at both soldiers. Clearing your throat, you asked, “so… why am I here?” You looked around the room, noticing the way they both refused to look you in the eye. “What happened? Was it Caboose—“

 

Speak of the devil; Caboose bolted through your room, skidding to a stop by your bed. Even after that ruckus, he wasn’t out of breath, shouting, “Yay! Nice (lady/guy/person) is awake!” He didn’t take a second to breathe, before jumping into another ramble, “I did not kill someone this time! Church would be **SO** proud!” Caboose rocked on his heels, smiling brightly. “Is (Y/N) still in pain?”

 

That was a question for the ages. While the pain from earlier dulled into a numb and tingly feeling, you still couldn’t move your left leg. “Yeah…” You admitted, not needing to look up to know Caboose was giving you the puppy-dog look of someone who knows they messed up. Even thinking of it caused your heart to ache. “Thanks for not killing me.” You said, sounding as sincere as possible.

 

Caboose smiled brightly, diving down to give you a hug. “You are most welcome!” He yelped out. It took both soldiers to stop him from hugging you, and possibly hurting you further. You desperately wanted to hug him back, however. But there would be other times for hugs.

 

“You guys aren’t answering my question.” You said once the adrenaline and excitement wore down.

 

Simmons gulped, fidgeting in his spot. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)—“

Grif groaned out. “Why are you even apologizing?! It’s not your fault!”

 

Simmons answered sharply, his voice cracking every few syllables, “someone has to be held accountable! Heh, you… you see (Y/N),” he nervously chuckled, wringing his gloved fingers. “One of the recruits _may_ have found some alien technology we uncovered, and they _may_ have _accidentally_ ran over your leg. “ He stammered out the sentence, anxiously wringing his hands and fingers. “And Caboose tried helping, but the recruit did too. And… Oh GOD (Y/N) I’m so sorry about your leg!” Simmons shouted. It took you a few moments to take in the events, but relief washed over you. It was only a rookie mistake; at least it didn’t take your life.

 

“Thank God it was only my leg.” You laughed lightly with relief, finally able to relax in your bed. “Where’s my doctor?” You asked, looking around for a board of some sort. They were always in the hospital room of your home town, but it seemed this one was barren. “Is it Dr. Grey?” You asked. You’d never met her before, seeing as this was your first visit since your arrival, but the guys would constantly comment about her. Was she the only doctor here?

 

Simmons’ face paled. “Oh god no (Y/N), you don’t want her.”

 

“She said my brain was cornflakes!” Caboose added, happiness radiating off him. “I wonder how smart that is!”

 

The doors opened, a voice replying, “I think you mean confounding, dude.” Tucker peeked from around the corner, eyes roving over the room. “Hey, you guys weren’t freaking out for no reason! (Y/N) is awake!”

 

You waved at him, smiling softly. “Hey to you too, Tucker. Do you know Dr. Grey too?” You asked, curious why everyone seemed to detest her. Had she done something wrong? Was she like Felix, too?

 

“Dr. Grey?” He asked. “Oh yeah, I know her. She’s crazy – not like best night of your life crazy,” he laughed at his own joke. “She’s crazy crazy.”

 

“That wasn’t helpful, like at _all_.” You bluntly said, ignored however. You were dreading meeting her, wondering if she was really off the walls as they said. Then again, they had a habit of exaggerating… “She can’t be that bad.” You mumbled.

 

“(Y/N), she let Doc attack me!” Tucker moaned out.

 

Doc, now that name seemed familiar, and you were certain you had met him before. Wasn’t he that awfully sweet medic?  “You mean the purple medic—“ Suddenly, you remembered certain events that transpired. You certainly weren’t clear of conscience, but you felt guilty of what happened.

 

“Yeahhhh?”

“The same Doc you left and NEVER looked for?”

“Yeahhhh—what’s your point?”

 

It seemed he wasn’t going to get the message through telepathy, no matter how long you try. “That is my point.” Grif was the first to immaturely gasping, ‘oooh’, Simmons quickly harmonizing with him.

 

“You just got owned.”

“Shut up, dude.”

 

** Half an hour later **

Everyone was starting to lull off by the time your doctor had finally arrived. “Well, this is a surprise! I was looking for you all for check-ups!” She cheerfully said. “But here you are giving (rank) (L/N) company! How thoughtful!”  


“Eh heh, yeah… here we are.” Simmons lost control of his voice the moment she entered the room. It felt as though the atmosphere shifted when she entered.

 

“How’s it looking, Doc?” You asked, adopting the mannerisms of a cartoon character you use to watch. “Am I going to walk again?”

 

“My, aren’t you an opportunist?” She giggled, humming, “those are rare now.” Even though her giggle seemed innocent enough, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “The good news is that yes! You’ll be able to walk again!” The crew began to cheer, patting your back. Even Caboose was trying his best not to pat you too hard.  “There’s more good news!” You smiled happily, awaiting the good news. “You’ll be stuck here – with me! You can even help with putting things away; I’m sure our stock workers will appreciate it!”

 

“Is (Y/N) being discharged?” Tucker asked with hesitancy.

 

“That doesn’t sound good…” Caboose mumbled, clinging to your side. The protective grip practically crushed you.

 

“It means (Y/N) would get to go home.” Grif exhaled sharply. You could’ve sworn he mumbled ‘lucky’ under his breath.

 

You saw stars as Caboose’s protective hold of you tightened. “But I don’t want (Y/N) to go – (Y/N) is my family!” He crushed you tightly to him.

 

You struggled to say his name, feeling your body loose oxygen. Once given the opportunity to move, you placed your hands flush against his face. You could see the tears forming in his eyes as he shifted his head to look at you, one tear breaking free and rolling down the apple of his cheek. “Caboose, I’m not going _anywhere_. I’m going to stay right here. I’m going to stay with _my_ family.”

 

“That’s very sentimental,” you heard Dr. Grey say,” if I hadn’t cried all my tears out as a child, and refused to cry again, I may have shed a tear!” That may have been the weirdest sentence you’d ever heard, but it was also the sweetest. “But no, (Y/N) is staying here.” Your heart felt lighter as you laughed, hugging Caboose closer to you. “So is that a no to cutting the leg off?” Dr. Grey asked.

 

Reality hit you so hard you’d thought you saw stars again. “Eh… _excuse me_?” You asked. That question came out of the blue; no one mentioned your leg needing to be removed. Was she holding a saw? Where was she even hiding that?”

 

“Your leg! I examined both of your friends, and I couldn’t help but notice Sarge’s unique handiwork! He would have no problems equipping you with a new leg – the bone structure would prove difficult, of course, but–“

 

“No.” There was no way in hell you were going to let Sarge equip you with anything; he might steal Lopez’s leg, and then you’d somehow end up speaking Spanish for the rest of your life!

 

“No?” She parroted, seemingly looking at the wall and not you. “Well, that’s a shame.” She somehow seemed almost disheartened by your answer. “I’m sure he would’ve been very excited to.” Dr. Grey began walking towards the bed. Even though everyone winced away from her, you stood your ground.  “Mr./Mrs/Miss (L/N), please get some more rest. I’ll be back shortly with your medication.” She outstretched her non-saw wielding hand to take yours, shaking it.

 

“Just don’t let me die, Doc?” You joked.

 

“Oh, that would reflect poorly on my skills! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make use of this saw!” She said with an all too cheerful tone, lugging the comically large saw out of your room.

 

 “…I really hope she’s going to be using that on wood.”

“Come on (Y/N), you know that’s—“ The sounds from down the hall proved otherwise.


End file.
